Promises
by RavenclawReality
Summary: "I'll protect you, Hermione, I promise! I promise I won't let them hurt you anymore!" Ron has a habit of making a lot of promises, hardly any of them genuine. However, the chaos and terror of the Battle of Hogwarts help him realize this, and he promises never to break a promise again. Romione oneshot.


**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter, or any part of Jo Rowling's amazing franchise. Sadly, this includes Ron Weasley. **

"Sorry," Ron yelled over his shoulder, as he did during nearly every Quidditch practise, "I'll put my entire soul into blocking that next Quaffle, I promise!"

"No you don't," Harry replied nonchalantly, trying not to let it show in his eyes that he knew what- who- Ron was always daydreaming about. Ron was a focused, grounded person, and the only one who could make him slip into a daze was Harry's other best friend, Hermione.

"Yeah, I know," shrugged Ron in response. "But I'll try my best anyway."

After practise, Harry had to stay behind, planning the next day's team meeting and working out game strategies. Supposedly, the team captain should pick a different person to stay with him and pack up the brooms and balls after each practise, but it was always Ron who stayed, and none of the other team members minded.

As Ron pulled off his helmet and placed it on the bench beside him, he had a bothered expression on his face. "I shouldn't snapped at Hermione today," he mused, thinking aloud more than trying to make conversation.

"Hm?" was all Harry said in response. His mind was still being absorbed by Quidditch, as he jotted notes on the team's progress into a notebook with a golden snitch on the front.

"I promised I'd stop being sarcastic to her," Ron continued.

Harry looked up and closed his notebook. "Not doing great in the promise department today, are ya?" he laughed. "That's two you've broken already."

"What was the other one?" asked Ron in an accusing tone.

"That you'd focus more on blocking the next Quaffle. You were completely out of it all day," said Harry, though his suspicion as to the subject of Ron's daydreams and his assurance that Ron would do well in the next game kept him from getting too annoyed. "And you were off your game because you regretted teasing Hermione?" Ron opened his mouth, but Harry continued. "Come on mate, that was hardly your worst."

"I felt bad," offered Ron absently.

Harry held back the laugh in his throat. "You have a girlfriend, remember?"

"Doesn't mean I can't want Hermione to be happy, too."

All the equipment had been put away, and Harry closed his notebook and stood up. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he said, starting toward the door with Ron followed close behind. "Just stop with the promises you can't keep, alright?"

**~o~o~o~**

_Though he would not remember it upon regaining his consciousness, the memory of that day at Hogwarts is what flashed through Ron Weasley's mind as his body contorted under the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. It is possible that his effort to remember anything happy, anything that carried the feelings of normal life before the war is what kept him from passing out, or even dying.  
In his last moment of burning, twisting, agonizing pain, still desperately trying to gather any thoughts to bring him hope, Ron had a blurred flashback of an encounter earlier that day, right before he and Hermione had entered the Chamber of Secrets.  
_  
**~o~o~o~**

"I'll protect you, Hermione, _I promise!_ I promise I won't let them hurt you anymore!" He had held Hermione close, hiding his face in her hair so he would not have to look at the distraught expression she wore.

**~o~o~o~**

A sinister chuckle and the sound of running footsteps cut off the memory, and the sudden awareness of all the noise and light around him made Ron feel as if he was being pushed deep into the ground. As he blinked, he realized where he was, and immediately shot to his feet so quickly that it blurred his vision and made him lightheaded. A figure with a mass of frizzy hair caught his attention on the other side of the Great Hall (though with all the damage, the room hardly resembled what anyone had previously associated with the Great Hall).

Hermione! Ron focused on her and regained his balance. He could still feel the warm squeeze she had given him before they departed, and the memory of the promise he had made to her suddenly filled his mind. _A promise_. Ron made promises so often; it had become a force of habit. He was annoyed to realise that in the middle of a battle, but it just made protecting Hermione even more important to him.

Hermione moved into the light, shouting spells at a scrawny looking Death Eater who was stumbling over his feet trying to hold his own. Ron could see her now, and he thought he would faint at what captured his eye next. One of the sleeves of her denim jacket had been ripped, and a wound was quickly growing. Bright red blood contrasted her soft pale skin, and it seemed to drip down her arm in slow motion, almost tauntingly. The sight of blood had always terrified Ron as well as made him nauseous, but now it only filled him with a violent, explosive anger. He tore across the room, not caring if he was sprinting right through the middle of a duel.

The weight of the promise Ron had almost absentmindedly made earlier seemed to fall in his shoes, making it more and more difficult to run. What if he couldn't really do it? These Death Eaters had been training for this day, perfecting their Stupefies since their parents had taught them at age ten, and practising for more than twice, in some cases three times the length of Ron's life. He had already said he wouldn't let them hurt Hermione, and now there was a red stream approaching her wrist.

It was strange, too, that Ron was finally considering himself something he never thought he could become- a soldier. Having had the entire Order of the Phoenix stay in his house before, nearly everyone he looked up to was one, in one way or another. He had fought before, too, but never in a battle like this, and had usually stuck to stunning and disarming. Through all the legends he had been told by the aurors he knew, he had always wondered about all the blood and gore. His brothers were excited by it but, aside from the uneasiness in his stomach, Ron could never quite register how people were so used to causing pain. They threw spells, sickly and violent, and moved on, and the aurors sometimes countered it with similar hexes and jinxes.

Surging toward Hermione, he shouted "_Impedimenta_!" at the Death Eater who had hurt her. The masked man froze with his eyes, the only visible part of him, unfocused, not knowing where the spell had come from. Instantly, he crashed to the ground, but Ron did not hear the thud, because all that filled his ears was the sound of his name in _her_ voice, desperately frightened and sounding of disbelief and relief all at once.

Hermione's attention focused to Ron, as she worriedly spoke. "Were you cruccioed? I saw you on the floor-"

"Hang on," was all Ron said in response, though he wished he could do more. He wanted to comfort her, to say how impressed he was when he saw her fighting alone, but that he knew she could do it all the same. He wanted to kiss her again, but also to vomit with the rush of emotions and all the blood that now dripped off her fingertips. However, there was still a more crucial matter to be taken care of. Hermione was hurt, and he had promised to protect her. In the time it took to get up off the floor after what had felt like death, Ron had made a promise to himself as well, that this would not be another promise he broke. He was not finished yet.

Ginger hair blurred as Ron spun on his heel to face the cloaked figure heaped on the floor in a position that looked less than comfortable. Ron glared and pointed his wand, and before he could even come up with a spell to spit at this villain, scratch marks started appearing down the man's arms, as if by invisible claws.

"Run!" Ron instructed, and he and Hermione fired stunning spells at the Death Eaters who tried to touch them as they tried to find where Harry had gone. As a few giants approached, they dashed behind a pile of what used to be part of a roof for shelter.

"Where did you learn how to do _that_?" Hermione asked through gasps of air.

Ron wasn't sure he knew the answer himself. "I dunno. It was one of those spells that just happens. You know how you sometimes say that magic is affected by our strongest emotions?"

Hermione nodded, still panting, her eyes wide as she tried to calm herself through the terror of the war surrounding them.

"Well I saw that Death Eater hurting you, and... and I didn't know what to do, but I knew he needed to feel pain after he touched you,"

"Oh Ron," was all she could say back before impulsively leaning over and kissing him for the second time that day, for the second time ever, creating flames between them and turning the screams and crashes of destruction from outside into white noise.

"I promised I'd protect you, Hermione," Ron whispered as they broke apart. "And starting today, I'm keeping my promises."

* * *

**AN: Thank you for reading this!**

**Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, as a Keeper for the Chudley Cannons.**

**Thank yous are in order for Anna and Kaylee, who read this fifteen minutes before it was do, and to the whole team for putting up with me.**

**Reviews are always appreciated :)**


End file.
